ames. He had a number
of these, some very curious; among others, that wild soldier, man of
fashion and wit among the reformers, Ulric von Huetten's autograph on
Erasmus' beautiful folio Greek Testament, and John Howe's (spelt How) on
the first edition of Milton's Speech on Unlicensed Printing.[25] He
began collecting books when he was twelve, and he was collecting up to
his last hours. He cared least for merely fine books, though he enjoyed,
no one more so, fine type, good binding, and all the niceties of the
book-fancier. What he liked were such books as were directly useful in
his work, and such as he liked to live in the midst of; such, also, as
illustrated any great philosophical, historical, or ecclesiastical
epoch. His collection of Greek Testaments was, considering his means, of
great extent and value, and he had a quite singular series of books,
pamphlets, and documents, referring not merely to his own body--the
Secession, with all its subdivisions and reunions--but to Nonconformity
and Dissent everywhere, and, indeed, to human liberty, civil and
religious, in every form,--for this, after the great truths, duties, and
expectations of his faith, was the one master-passion of his
life--liberty in its greatest sense, the largest extent of individual
and public spontaneity consistent with virtue and safety. He was in this
as intense, persistent in his devotion, as Sydney, Locke, or old Hollis.
For instance, his admiration of Lord Macaulay as a writer and a man of
letters, an orator and a statesman, great as it was, was as nothing to
his gratitude to him for having placed permanently on record, beyond all
risk of obscuration or doubt, the doctrine of 1688--the right and power
of the English people to be their own lawgivers, and to appoint their
own magistrates, of whom the sovereign is the chief.

[23] David Hume's _Treatise on Human Nature_ he knew thoroughly,
and read it carefully during his last illness. He used to
say it not only was a miracle of intellectual and literary
power for a man of twenty-eight, but contained the essence
of all that was best on the philosophy of mind; "It's all
there, if you will think it out."

[24] This tendency was curiously seen in his love of portraits,
especially of men whose works he had and liked. He often put
portraits into his books, and he seemed to enjoy this way of
realizing their authors; and in exhibiti